


Hey, I Know You're Dead, But Call Me Maybe

by Bubbly_Kandy



Category: Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard - Rick Riordan, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Annabeth and Magnus are CLOSE you can take this from my cold dead hands, Magnus Chase needs a hug, POV Annabeth Chase, PS magnus also has a really brief panic attack but it's not graphic, Protective Annabeth Chase, They both do, also in this annabeth is 6 years older than magnus, annabeth chase needs a hug, he shows up for like .2 seconds at the end but idk. his presence is off, i didnt mean to make hearth so... idk unlikable?, ily hearth xoxo, slight deviation from canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:34:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26867473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubbly_Kandy/pseuds/Bubbly_Kandy
Summary: “I’ll call.” Magnus kissed her cheek. It felt cold. “You’re the best.”Annabeth aggressively pressed her palm against her eye, the tear absorbing into her glove before it could fall.“You are the worst.”“I know. Thanks. Bye.”---Or: the funeral home meeting, through Annabeth's POV.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase (Percy Jackson) & Magnus Chase
Comments: 1
Kudos: 85





	Hey, I Know You're Dead, But Call Me Maybe

Annabeth knew she could never claim to have seen everything. Even with all the moderately-strange-to-downright-traumatic things that have carved their mark deep within her brain, she knew that she could never be cocky and claim to have seen everything the world had to offer. 

Still, though, seeing the cousin that you believed had died three days ago messing with his own corpse wasn’t something she had expected or even _wanted_ to see when she walked into a funeral home. Well, just one more thing to add to the list. 

His name left her like she had been punched in the gut, which by all intents and purposes, she had been. Magnus whirls around, and she doesn’t miss how he lifts himself up on his toes so that he could break into a run at any moment. Even though she’s a good ten feet away from him, she sees raw panic and fright in his eyes. Then, however, he seems to recognize her; then his whole body slumps guiltily, like he had just been caught reaching into the cookie jar when he was strictly told not to do so, or like a lost little puppy. 

Then, she notices that Magnus is wearing a honest-to-the-gods _Wiggles_ shirt, and she feels the heavy stone of shock and grief vanish _real_ quick. She was _not_ going to cry in front of a 16 year old boy with Kurt Cobain hair and a Wiggles shirt on. She respected herself more than that.

“I _knew_ you weren’t dead,” Annabeth says once she can speak and see clearly, then she can’t hold back from tackling Magnus in a hug that was 15 years in the making. She feels Magnus tense up as tight as a bowstring before he sags, his head leaning heavily on Annabeth’s shoulder. His breathing grows shaky, and Annabeth tries to hold him tighter but he wiggles (ha, ha) out of her arms while wiping his eyes in a way to make it look like he wasn’t drying his eyes. 

“It’s really good to see you,” Magnus says, and Annabeth almost laughs. The _very first_ thing her cousin says to her in 15 years other than baby babbling, and it’s an ice-breaking pleasantry. ‘Good to see you,’ her butt. 

As Magnus pulls away, Annabeth gets another glimpse of the corpse that was third-wheeling their cousin-to-cousin bonding, and she can’t help but wrinkle her nose at it. She never knew how _different_ a dead body looked to the actual living person. Which was strange, because she saw a lot of-

“This is gonna be hard to explain,” Magnus mutters, and Annabeth bumps his shoulder with hers. 

“You think?” She asks, then waits for him to explain. He doesn’t. “Is the body… fake?” She prompts, and then has to look away. If it _was_ a fake, it was a damn good one. 

“Uh… not exactly,” Magnus begins, and Annabeth goes from looking at a stained glass window to staring _right_ at Magnus because _what did he mean by that?_ “It’s best if people think I’m dead, though. Because…” Magnus pauses, and Annabeth is about ten seconds from grabbing Magnus by the wrist and dragging him to the nearest therapist because she may not know what was going on, sure, but she’s heard the _I’m better off dead_ line from way too many people before to just let it go-

“Wait,” Magnus says suddenly, looking at the door. “Did you pass an el- a guy on the way in? My friend was supposed to be keeping watch.”

Annabeth makes a mental note of both the slip-up and how it was related to Magnus’s friend before answering.

“No. Nobody was out there. The door was unlocked.” At this, Magnus goes paler than before, which Annabeth didn’t know was possible. He starts to sway on his feet, and Annabeth warily steps closer. 

“Magnus?” 

“I should check-” Magnus loses his balance, and Annabeth catches him before he can crack his head open on the coffin. They didn’t need _two_ dead Magnuses. (Yeah, no. _Bad_ Annabeth, bad!)

“Whoa!” Annabeth says as she catches him, and they’re stuck in an awkward shuffle of Annabeth trying to ease Magnus fully down on the ground as Magnus stubbornly tries to keep standing. Magnus wins the tussle, but he doesn’t loosen his iron grip on her arms for a while. “Do you need to breathe, or can I get some answers?” 

“I…” Magnus gulps in a shaky breath, closing his eyes; he doesn’t look at Annabeth once he opens them again. “Honestly, I don’t know where to start.” He lets go of Annabeth’s arms, hugging himself around his middle. “I’m in a kind of dangerous situation. I don’t want you to get involved.”

Various warning bells immediately went off in Annabeth’s head. What kind of ‘dangerous situation’ was Magnus _talking_ about? Why was he being so vague? If Magnus wasn’t going to talk, Annabeth was just about to shake it out of him, so help her-

“Too late,” Annabeth says, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. _Don’t freak him out, Annabeth. Stay calm._ “I know about dangerous situations, Magnus. _Trust_ me.” 

“Randolph almost got killed on the bridge,” Magnus said, which added yet _another_ confusing puzzle piece to the mix. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” His voice quivers, and Annabeth both wants to beat Randolph’s she-didn’t-know-what and hug Magnus even tighter than she already had. A humorless laugh bursts out, and her head falls into her hands as she expresses a desire to take Randolph’s cane and use it in a way that definitely _dis_ advantaged that senior citizens’ life. 

“You’re being just as vague as him, you know. He won’t say why he took you to that bridge. He was going on about how you were in danger because of your birthday-” _Gods, this all happened on his birthday!_ “-and he was convinced he was going to help. He said something about our family history-” 

“He told me about my father.” Magnus was finally looking at her again, his arms no longer tightly wrapped around his middle. Annabeth scowls. 

“You never knew your father.” What did Magnus’s deadbeat father have to do with anything? Randolph was more kooky than she first thought. 

“Yeah. But apparently…” Magnus wrinkled his nose, shaking his head before putting a hand to it like it had started to hurt. “Look, this is gonna sound _crazy,_ but there’s a connection between the bridge, what happened to mom, and-” he pauses. “Who my father is.” 

Annabeth had recently taken a vacation to the beach with Percy. During their visit, Percy had decided to be a snot and make it so an absolute _monster_ of a wave had hit Annabeth when she least expected it, leaving her drenched and nearly swept out to sea. All the puzzle pieces suddenly click together in her brain, and Magnus’s vague hints at a story transform from simply being pieces into being a wave of realization that was just as big, if not _bigger_ than Percy’s. 

_Magnus never knew his father. He left before Magnus was born. Natalie was killed in a mysterious incident, Magnus was being chased, he was_ **_sixteen years old-_ **

“Magnus,” Annabeth breathes, her hands covering her mouth. “Oh, _gods…”_

How was Annabeth so _stupid?_ All the clues were right in front of her nose the whole time. She should have put the pieces together sooner. She should’ve _known._

 _Goddess of wisdom,_ a voice snickered in her head. _Yeah, right._

“I should have known,” she murmurs, suddenly feeling a deep desire to bash her head against the stained glass window they were standing by. “All this about our family being special, how we attracted attention… why did I only think it was just _me?”_ She was pacing, the closest she could get to running around like a chicken with its head cut off and screaming while still being respectful of the funeral home and the coffin in front of them. She catches a glance of Magnus’s confused expression, which makes her stop and grab his shoulders. “Magnus, I’m _so sorry._ I could’ve helped you so much sooner-”

“Um, I’m not sure-” Magnus says, trying to shrug Annabeth’s hands off his shoulders. Annabeth realized she sounded (and probably looked, judging by Magnus’s expression) absolutely insane, but it was too late to back out now. 

“My dad’s flying back tomorrow after the funeral,” she continues. “I was going to go back to New York, but school can wait. I _get_ it now, Magnus! I can help you, there’s a place I know you’ll be safe at.” 

Magnus was still just 16 years old. Camp would accept him without thinking twice. If he were as old as Annabeth, she would’ve probably had to bring him to New Rome to live with her and Percy, but she didn’t want Magnus to know what it was like to be chased by monsters while also riding a train-

Magnus finally pulls away, and Annabeth can’t help but feel hurt when he puts extra distance between them this time. He opened his mouth, about to say something before someone who Annabeth couldn’t help but think looked like a taller Jason with a black eye burst in, his hands flying around in what Annabeth could tell was sign language but couldn’t translate. 

“Who-” she starts to say, but Magnus, who could apparently read the rapid-fire signing, stepped forward and took Annabeth’s hands. His hands were cold and shaky. Annabeth didn’t like feeling either of those things when it came to Magnus’s hands, even if she didn’t know what they normally felt like. 

“That’s my friend,” he says, like it explains everything. Annabeth took another look. The man was bouncing up and down like an impatient child at the store. “I really have to go, but, listen…” he shrugs, grimacing a little. “I really have to do this on my _own._ It’s like a personal-”

“Quest,” Annabeth fills in, her heart sinking. She _hated_ this. She hated feeling useless, hated not being able to save her own cousin from the same fate she was tied to, hated that all this was happening to Magnus and she didn’t _know._ A thick ball formed in her throat, one that she couldn’t swallow down. 

“I _was_ gonna say pain in the-” Magnus clears his throat. “Yeah, _quest_ works.” He laughed a touch, but quickly fell into being serious again. “If you really wanna help me, please, just pretend you didn’t see me. Later, after I’m done-” Annabeth squeezes his hands a little bit tighter. It could easily be the last time she could ever do so. “I’ll explain everything, I promise. But right now, I really have to go.” 

Oh, how Annabeth _hated_ the way he had said that. 

She takes in a deep, shaky breath as she slowly lets go of Magnus’s hands. They had just been getting warm… 

“Magnus, I probably _could_ help you, but…” she reached into her coat pocket, biting her tongue. “Just take this.” She presses one of the missing flyers into his hands, waiting until he unfolded it before pointing at the second number on the paper. “This is my number. Call me.” She left no room for question, and a glance at Magnus’s friend showed him to be even more restless than before. “Let me know when you’re okay, or if you change your mind and-”

“I’ll call.” Magnus kissed her cheek. It felt cold. “You’re the best.”

Annabeth aggressively pressed her palm against her eye, the tear absorbing into her glove before it could fall.

“You are the _worst.”_

“I know. Thanks. Bye.” 

Magnus turned on his heel and ran towards his friend, the soft tone he had adopted being dropped immediately as he shouted _“where were you?”_ The man didn’t seem to care, as he spun around and ran out, leaving Magnus to chase after him. 

And just like that, Annabeth was alone.

**Author's Note:**

> (pretends like i haven't not uploaded anything in 5 months) 
> 
> I know I changed the scene up a little, but PLEASE I couldn't help it 
> 
> God I love you Annabeth. xoxo
> 
> Also I 10000% hc Magnus to have droopy/sleepy eyes. This does not matter, but it's important to me that you know this
> 
> This fic is entirely self indulgence, along with the AU of Annabeth being 6 years older than Magnus- but please I. (holds 22 year old Annabeth and 16 year old Magnus in my hands) i just think they're neat :)  
> \---  
> I hope you enjoyed!!! if you did, please leave a kudos or even a comment! <3
> 
> Thank you for reading!!


End file.
